The War After the War
by Rhoux
Summary: Even after the war, Ron is still haunted by the memory the of locket's horcrux, and the image of Hermione in the arms of his best friend. Overwhelmed by jealousy, he changes the relationship between the three of them forever. HP/HG.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N;** Hey everyone, haven't posted in ages. I went to work on this story again and felt so unfamiliar with it after so long that I decided to rehash it. Will follow the same general storyline of course. Updates should come every 3-5 days. Hope you enjoy ;)

**Disclaimer; **I own nothing, etc...

**The War After the War – Chapter One**

Hermione clasped a hand around her thumb which was turning bright red. She pursed her lips in pain and whirled around to face the dark paneled wall of the office when Harry walked in, hoping he wouldn't notice. He was carrying something heavy, and quickly losing his grip.

"Hey Hermione, can you help me with this?" He set the large box on the floor, exhaling forcefully as he kicked the heavy brown door to the outer office shut. "Couldn't really use an owl for it."

"Um in a minute. I'm busy with... something." She brought her thumb to her mouth, blowing on it.

"Huh?" Harry peered over her shoulder. "Did you burn yourself again? That's the third time this week, your hand is going to fall off." He grabbed her wrist. "Here, lemme see it."

"Ow, Harry! Its fine," She protested, sucking in a breath when he touched it.

He turned her hand over, holding her palm open between his own thumb and forefingers. "Right, Hermione. Its turning green. Perfectly okay."

They had been working on a reinvention of veritaserum for weeks now in the potions lab at the Ministry of Magic, and though they were making great progress it was still a dangerous chemical when spilled or misused. Every eleven hours the elixir required folding, like you would eggs into a batter. They tried skipping this step, and stirring instead which somehow seemed easier for Hermione, but that had turned out to be a disaster. They had also thought to wait until Harry could do the folding, even if it meant doing so a little before or after the eleven hour mark, but that had also turned out to be a disaster. The mixture simply didn't take when those two particular steps weren't followed meticulously, and this was surprisingly one of the few things Hermione just wasn't that good at. It made for a lot of overtime at the office while they worked on it.

"How are you even managing to burn yourself?" Harry asked, rummaging in the back closet for a first aid kit. "This isn't _that _hard. It's literally just like... making a cake or something, and you _knew_ I'd be in this morning. Why bother?"

She sighed, annoyed. "I don't know, I guess I was just hoping I'd eventually learn how to do it on my own before we finished. It just keeps splashing all over me, I can't-"

"Do it slower?"

"-I _was _doing it slower_-" _she glared. "I cannot wait until we finish this. Its like it hates me or something."

Harry took her hand again, squeezing a small tube of healing agent over the wound. It soothed instantly as he rubbed her thumb gently with it, and then her palm and her knuckles in firm little circles. It was unnecessary, but she said nothing, letting him finish.

Hermione was silent as he worked, listening to the faint noises of other employees arriving at work to start their shifts. After several minutes, he curled her fingers into her palm, making a fist. "There, good as new."

"Thanks Harry." She looked away, embarrassed.

He shrugged, gesturing to the large box he came in with. " Here, help me with this now."

"What is it?" She grunted under its weight as she helped him heave it onto a table.

"Open it."

"Really, what is it?"

"Just open it. I'm not sure its exactly what you had in mind, but I thought it looked really nice."

Hermione gasped, knowing exactly what it was. "Oh my God, Harry!" she beamed at him. "You told me the parts wouldn't arrive for another few weeks at least." Carefully, she removed a sturdy plank of rich mahogany wood from the box. It was warm to the touch, like it had a life of its own, and she relished in its smooth and shiny surface.

"Will that work for you?" Harry asked, smiling.

"Oh Harry, this is just what I wanted" she breathed, admiring it. "You will help me make it, wont you? I've been looking up models and I have some ideas but I really don't know what Ron likes. I just know it has to be absolutely and _completely_ perfect."

This was going to be her gift to Ron, for his birthday. A very expensively constructed broom designed to fit his body and flying style to a tee. He had just recently fulfilled a lifelong dream in signing with the Chudley Cannons, and she thought there could be no better gift than the most vital tool he would be using while he played. Yes, Hermione had money; she could have easily bought him a Firebolt and left it at that, but she wanted something unique. Something no other player had, and Harry, who knew just about everything as to the way a broom should handle had agreed to help her make it.

After the fall of Voldemort, they had both secured jobs as aurors at the new Ministry of Magic, becoming partners almost immediately. For a time Ron had worked with them, content to become an auror as well, but when the Cannons came calling he was unable to resist their offer. It had been as much a surprise to him as anyone that his favorite quidditch team of all time would want to recruit him, but Hermione didn't think it so strange. They had all sort of become celebrities after the war, and it was easy to see why they would want Ron on their team. Not only was he a great player to begin with, but he would be able to bring in a lot of publicity.

Hermione figured it wouldn't be long before something much the same happened to Harry, but he had made it perfectly clear that he was content to continue what he'd spent most of his wizarding life doing- keeping the magical world safe. Being an auror had been his dream since he had learned what one was, and the lack of Voldemort to fight was simply an added bonus.

If she were being completely honest with herself, Hermione might say she had joined the Ministry because of Harry. They had all seen each other through so much, that the thought of anything happening again... Not that she hadn't been requested outright – her intellect and resourcefulness were invaluable – but they were also greatly aware of the ease in which the Ministry fell to corruption. As members of The Order, they had vowed to prevent that from happening again, as much as they were able. Keeping the Ministry close was much safer than ignoring it, which brought them to where they were at present.

She smiled at Harry, laying the parts for the broom out before her along the table. "Do you think Ron will like this? Or do you think I should have done something else?"

Harry nodded encouragingly. "Are you kidding? There isn't much Ron loves more than quidditch. Now-" he reached across her for one of the parts, "-lets see what all we have."

-Chapter 1, part 2-

Later that evening, after spending an extra hour at the Ministry with Harry to work on the broom, Hermione climbed the winding steps up to the quaint little flat she shared with Ron in the small town near the Burrow. The porch light was on and she wondered if she had forgotten to turn it off that morning.

"Ron?" she called as she came in, taking her scarf and coat off and hanging them on the rack. A hearty, delicious aroma wafted into the front room and she smiled when Ron emerged from the kitchen. "What are you doing home so early?" she asked, steadying herself against the wall as she slipped off her shoes. "I thought you had practice until ten."

Even before responding he crossed the room and took her in his arms, kissing her firmly on the mouth. She grinned against his lips as he ran his large hands up along her sides and back down to encircle her waist.

"We were supposed to," he said between kissing her, "but the Coach had some family thing. What kept you at work?"

"I'm sorry, if I had known you were already off I would have come straight home." She stood on her tip toes and kissed him on the forehead, skirting around the question and heading into the kitchen to sample whatever it was that smelled so good. "There was a lot to do today, but now I have a three day weekend." Sitting on the table was a large pan of steaming lasagna. "Wow, did your mum bring this over?"

"Well I stopped by the Burrow and she insisted I take it home. Here, have some, its really good."

"It looks good," she agreed, grabbing a dish from a small stack Ron had set out.

"Just a minute," Ron took her plate, and setting it back on the table, "I can't wait any longer, stay right there."

"Um.. okay?" Hermione put her fork down, not surprised when her stomach let out a little grumble. She took a seat at the table, rubbing a socked foot on the leg of her chair. Ron returned a moment later, holding something. "What's going on?" she asked, curious.

"Look, I wanted this to be special and romantic and... amazing for you, but we've both been working so much and I just barely signed with the Cannons and..." it didn't need to be said that Ron wasn't the best at planning things out.

"Ron what is it?" She stood up, concerned.

"No, sit back down." He gave her shoulders a gentle push and stepped back, his hands out awkwardly. "Hermione..." he breathed nervously, sinking down to a knee. "I was at the burrow today... to get this." He produced the small, shiny object that he had been concealing. A ring.

"Ron..." her mouth fell open. The ring was a pretty little single stone, with a silver gray band that shimmered in the light. She considered how it could be meant for her when Ron had so many siblings.

"Would you...? Marry me, I mean... " He looked up at her, his heart clearly pounding out of his chest in fear. "I love you Hermione, so much."

Hermione was rarely speechless in her life, but right now was one of those times. She looked down at Ron, his face earnest in his proposal. He was dressed in a dark brown sweater that zipped up with a collar, and she could see that he wore a white t-shirt underneath that poked out at the neckline. His hair was tousled across his eyes like usual, and the ring looked small and delicate between his fingers. She focused on it, unable to breath.

"Is it too soon?" He asked, shifting uncomfortably, still holding the ring out.

A million thoughts circled in Hermione's mind, some about finances, others about work and her future. A random image of two little first year boys eating chocolate frogs on the train to Hogwarts came into her head. This was what she wanted, right?

"If its too soon we can just..." Ron withdrew his hand, unsure what to say.

"No!" Hermione half shouted, her brain catching up with itself. "I mean yes! Sorry I was thinking..." she trailed off, unsure what she wanted to say, still seeing the eleven year old Ron and Harry in her mind's eye. She slid out of her chair onto the floor to kiss him, feeling him relax as she took the ring from him.

-Chapter 1, part 3-

Harry sighed, facing Ginny in their large king sized bed. He took a strand of her hair between his fingers, twirling it. He could see a faint smile on her lips in the shadows of the room, and he leaned in to nuzzle the crook of her neck.

"I stopped by the Burrow today," she whispered softly, running her fingernails lightly up the back of his neck. "Guess who was there?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled distractedly, kissing along her collarbone and the curve of her breasts.

"Ron," she said quietly, biting her lip when he hit a sensitive spot.

"This isn't unusual for Ron."

Ginny laughed, his stubble tickling her. "He had a little box with him."

Harry reached over to grab the underside of her leg, pulling her to him. "Mmhm."

"Come on Harry, a little box. You know?"

"No I don't know," he replied against her lips, rolling onto her.

She brought one of her knees up invitingly and kissed him hard, on the verge of losing her train of thought. He sat up, pulling at her shirt, unconcerned with conversation.

"I think he might be proposing soon," she breathed, flushed.

"What?" Harry stopped, his tone serious. "Ron is proposing? To Hermione?" His hands rested, unmoving at her rib cage.

"Well yeah, its about time, don't you think?" His shock surprised her, and she placed her hands over his. "He's been in love with her since he was like... twelve." Harry's face was a mask in the darkness, but she could feel the tenseness in his body. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I... I'm just stunned. I didn't realize they were planning to do that so soon. It hasn't even been... well not very long." He left her shirt as it was, and laid his head down against her breasts.

It had actually been a little over 4 years, he realized when he actually thought about it.

"You're just worried about losing your friends aren't you." A strange band of some incomprehensible emotion wrapped itself around Ginny's chest, and she held her breath, waiting for him to respond.

He was quiet for a long while before answering. "Yeah, I guess so. We've just always been together."

"You know that's never going to happen. Ron and Hermione have stood by you through just about everything. What makes you think marriage would change that?"

"I don't know... you're right. I'm being stupid," he sighed, getting up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked hopefully, wishing she'd waited to say anything. This was supposed to be good news. She wasn't really sure why he wasn't happier about it.

She could hear the faucet turn on, and the cupboard open, but he didn't answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer; **I own nothing, etc...

**Chapter Two – The War After the War**

Several weeks later, Ron found himself picking over leftovers from a supper his mother had cooked earlier that evening. Hermione had sent an owl at lunch to tell him she would be clocking a few extra hours at the Ministry that night, and having nothing else planned, he set off for the Burrow to look for something to keep him busy until she got home.

Mrs. Weasley fretted about him like a hen while he ate the last of the mashed potatoes.

"Does Hermione not cook, my dear? Well she'll have to learn if she's going to marry you, Ron."

He smiled through a full mouth, waving his fork in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess she will. She can cook some things, but not like you Mum."

"Oh my boy," she beamed, bending over to kiss him on the top of his head. "Already engaged, I do hope we have your wedding here like we did Bill and Fleur's." She was pouring him a second glass of orange juice when Ginny walked in.

"Hey Mum. Hey Ron. How is everyone? Where's Dad?"

"Hey Ginny, what are you doing here?" Ron mumbled

"Ginny dear," Mrs. Weasley greeted her warmly, "Dad's just out in the garage, working on some muggle thing or other. Would you like some supper? I can warm you up a plate."

"Sure Mum. Harry wont be home for a while, so I think he's just going to grab something on his own."

"Is he working?" Ron asked, taking another large drink.

"Yeah I guess so," she shrugged. "He's been working late a lot recently, but I'm sure it'll slow down... eventually." She pulled up a chair at the table, not seeing Ron's brow furrow behind his glass.

"Oh dears, let's hope so," Mrs. Weasley sighed, setting a large helping of leftover roast beef and green beans in front of Ginny. "Ron was just telling me that Hermione was working late too. I'd hate to think that things were... starting again," she finished in a whisper.

Ginny chanced a quick glance at Ron, who met her eyes. They both looked away, uncomfortable.

"Not to worry." Mrs. Weasley took Ron's empty plate. "I'm sure if there were anything more serious going on, your father would have had to stay late too."

Ron stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table."Thanks Mum, it was great. I'm going to check in on Dad before I take off." Ron kissed her on the cheek and stalked out the back door.

"Wait, you haven't even tried the des-" the door swung shut before she could finish. She turned to Ginny, alarmed. "He never skips on dessert. That's very odd."

Ginny shrugged, suddenly not as hungry as she had thought. "Maybe it was me."

"Nonsense! How are you and Harry, sweetheart?" Mrs. Weasley asked, oblivious.

"Alright I guess," she poked a green bean with her fork. "Our landlord is raising our rent an arm and a leg, but other than that pretty good. Oh, and I heard back from that job I applied for. Start next month."

"Well that's wonderful! Why do you not seem happier then?"

"Well I am happy, I just..." Ginny set her fork down, caught off guard. The incomprehensible emotion that had latched itself onto her the other night tightened its grip, and she was surprised to feel her eyes water. She wiped them impatiently, happy that her mother was busy piling dishes into the sink. Her thoughts were pulled, instinctively to a night from several weeks ago, when she had walked in on her mother and Ron during a private conversation.

"_Sweetheart..." Mrs. Weasley placed her hands over Ron's, looking into his face, trying to understand. _

"_Mum, don't..." _

"_No Ron, I'm serious. You are my boy, and you have done so much to make me proud. I will be just as proud if this is what you choose..." she trailed off, unsure how to put into words the point she hoped to get across._

"_But you don't think I should?" Ron moved away, upset._

"_Oh honey, its not that."_

"_Well what? That she's muggle-born? I think Dad would find that in her favor!" Ron was quickly becoming defensive, and Mrs. Weasley pulled his hand back abruptly. _

"_I just want to know that you are one hundred percent certain that she is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. One hundred percent! I think Hermione is a lovely girl... truly Ron, I do."_

"_Then why are you so against this?" he asked, incredulously._

"_Ron," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I never said that. I just want you to understand..." she put her hands out for emphasis, "the gravity of this decision. I know things are great now, and you think, nothings ever going to change... but a lot can change. Look at your father and I!"_

"_You and Dad have a great relationship."_

"_Oh I know, but you wouldn't believe some of the fights we've had. The only reason we have such a great relationship now is because we were both wanted it to work so much. If you have any doubt... any at all that Hermione will do that for you..." _

_Ginny stood, unmoving outside the door._

"_I love Hermione," Ron told their mother, visibly upset. "Please just be happy for me." _

A dish clanked, making Ginny jump. "Um... I'm sorry Mum, I think I'm gonna go."

"But you just got here!" Mrs. Weasley protested. "And you've barely touched your food."

"I know, I'm sorry, really. Maybe if you could put it in something so I can take it with me for later? I just don't feel good all of a sudden."

-Chapter 2, part 2-

"So I heard the good news from your mother," Arthur Weasley congratulated his son from under a massive hunk of metal that only vaguely resembled a vehicle. "Getting married to Hermione... I wondered when you'd finally pop the question. You've been hanging on her every word since puberty it seems like. Grab me a wrench up there, will ya?"

"I have not," he mumbled, looking for his dad's toolbox. "Here," he said, sliding under the car.

"Did she like the ring? It was my great-great-grandmother's, passed all the way down on my mother's side." Mr. Weasley wiped a fleck of dust from under his eye, adjusting his glasses. "I remember my mother wearing it when she was alive."

"She must have, she said yes. Thanks for... talking Mum into letting me have it. I'm not really making bank just yet."

Mr. Weasley waved his concern away. "We couldn't let you propose empty handed, Son. I knew it would be happening soon, you've already been living together almost a year."

Ron looked away, touched and slightly embarrassed.

"Does Mum know you're making another flyer?" he asked, shining his wand where his father was working.

"No, and if you say anything I'll tell Hermione you wet the bed until you were eight."

"She knows, Dad."

"Well... still. If your mother found out she'd have my neck. Here, point that right here."

Ron brought the light down a few inches. "Don't worry, I'm not going to say anything. How is work?" He tried to sound casual.

Arthur had been promoted considerably after the war and he was now in charge of several areas of the Ministry, not just the department for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. He was also the overhead for Harry and Hermione.

"Eh... it's work. Been kinda slow lately. Hand me that filter over there."

"What filter? I don't see one."

"Its over there... somewhere."

He sifted through a pile of what appeared to be random junk, searching for it. "Slow? It's January. You'd think it'd be chaos after the holidays."

"Yeah well, it hasn't really picked up any since you were there. That's not a bad thing though, as we well know."

"That's good then, I guess." Ron handed him the filter, and sat up. Movement at the small window caught his eye. It was Ginny, waving him outside.

-Chapter 2, part 3-

"Goodnight Dad," Ron called, shutting the garage door behind him. "Ginny, whats up?" he asked, more quietly.

"Sorry I just was wondering if..." she fidgeted. "Did Dad say anything? About... work? I mean I know he can't _really _say anything but..." she willed him to understand her meaning, without having to ask it outright. It was a subject neither of them wanted to discuss, though they'd been on the verge of it for years.

Ron raised an eyebrow, zipping his jacket up. "He said it was fine. He doesn't seem to think anything is abnormal, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh," she exhaled, glancing in the direction a cricket was chirping. "So we don't need to be... worried then. I mean I just... its not like we can barge in there and-"

"Why would we?" Ron cut her off, shrugging. "Its not our job, they'll figure it out."

"Well I- wait, are we talking about the same thing?" Ginny frowned. "You know... the-"

"Working late?" he asked.

"Yeah. I mean I know Harry and Hermione work in the same department, but still." The unspoken question hung in the air, and she considered Ron carefully, unable to tell if they were on the same page.

He kicked a patch of dirt with his foot, jamming his hands into his pockets. The cricket stopped.

"They're probably just busy," he said finally,. "See you later."

Ginny stared at his back as he left, agitated. She turned away after a moment, not seeing the same expression on Ron's face when he looked back at her.

-Chapter 2, part 4-

Ron trudged into his flat, deflated. Hermione still hadn't returned, even though their little clock read half past nine at night. Personal belongings welcomed him all over the apartment as he slipped his shoes off. There were stacks of books in the front closet that Hermione had been unable to part with, mainly things from Hogwarts, and Ron's old game of Wizard's Chess at the very top. The items alone were proof of the life he had built with her, but where was she? It angered him that he always seemed to find some reason to feel insecure about it.

_You are nothing_

_nothing_

_nothing compared to him..._

The image flooded his memory, and he closed his eyes, suddenly back in the forest watching a ghostly Hermione come toward him from the horcrux.

_Who could look at you, compared to Harry Potter?_

Her beautiful, darkened eyes regarded him condescendingly.

_What are you, compared with the chosen one?_

She stepped closer, smirking.

_What woman would take you? _

He sat in the memory, watching the horcrux Hermione shrouded in an otherworldly haze, reaching for Harry... touching Harry... her eyes glinting seductively in a way he'd never seen before. He pressed his palms against his forehead, willing the image to retreat back into the corner of his subconscious he tried very hard to forget. His chest hurt strangely, and he put his hand over it.

What would have happened? he often wondered, seeing Hermione's delicate, silver fingers trail their way up Harry's arm and onto his neck. How long would the scene have played if Ron hadn't smashed the horcrux when he did? Her face twisted into a sinister little smile, taunting him as she leaned into Harry, letting her eyes fall closed as she kissed him.

How far would things have gone?

Ron grabbed the thing nearest to him and threw it at the wall.

-Chapter 2, part 5-

Hermione jumped at the tap on her shoulder, nearly spilling her fourth coffee for the night. "Oh God, Ginny you scared me! What are you doing here?"

Ginny rustled the snow from her trench in the lobby of the Ministry. Similar to Hogwarts, unless you were someone extremely important like the headmaster, or in this case the minister, you could not just apparate there.

"Its a damn blizzard outside," she said, rubbing her arms to warm herself. "Sorry, its just getting so late I wondered if you two were okay or if Harry's made plans to sleep here tonight."

Hermione laughed, awkwardly.

"Oh yeah, we're fine. We were hoping our project might finish tonight but...," she sighed, trying to hide her annoyance at the interruption. "Looks like it will be a few more days at least. Let me go get him." Only ministry personnel were allowed past the front area, and for the most part, she was grateful for it. She liked Ginny, she really did, but they had never entirely bonded as friends. She wasn't sure if this was because she was dating her brother, or best friends with her boyfriend, but it was clear that their relationship had long since reached its maximum potential.

Ginny nodded, lips pursed, and Hermione swept back into her office. Harry was seated at the table that connected their desks, crouched over the broom for Ron that was now almost finished.

"We are so close, Hermione. All we need are a few more -"

"Harry," she stopped him. "Its going to have to wait. You've got a visitor." She pointed in the direction of the lobby.

-Chapter 2, part 6-

Hermione popped into her living room, frowning at the darkness. The only light left on was the small one over the oven, but that didn't keep her from running into the couch.

"Shit!" she cursed under her breath, sliding her hand along the wall as a guide to the bathroom. She knew Ron would have eaten already, so she skipped fixing anything and got into her pajamas. Then she brushed her hair and her teeth and crept into the bedroom as quietly as she could so not to wake him. She could faintly make out the sounds of his light snoring, and slid into the bed next to him.

"Finally," he whispered.

"I thought you were asleep," she smiled, leaning over to kiss him goodnight.

"I was."

He made no move to kiss her back and she rolled her eyes, figuring he must not be _that_ much awake. She grinned to herself in the darkness, thinking of his present excitedly.

_Only one more month until March._

When his snoring didn't resume after several moments she snaked her hand across his waist, trailing her fingers down his stomach to the band on his boxers.

Abruptly, he turned on his side, away from her.

"Are you...alright?" she asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

"I'm fine, just tired," he said, his voice emotionless.

"Are you sick?" She reached out to stroke his arm, but he shrugged her off.

"I said I'm fine."

"...okay?" Her brow furrowed and she lay back on her pillow, staring at his silhouette. That definitely wasn't the reaction she had expected. This was actually the first time he had ever turned her down, ever. Looking around the room, she sighed, seeing the clock on the wall.

4am and she hadn't even noticed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer; **I own nothing, etc...

**The War After the War – Chapter Three**

"Subject prepped. Test will commence in sixty seconds."

Harry and Hermione stood outside the interrogation room, peering through the large glass window together. Their reconstructed version of veritaserum was finally complete, and so they were giving a demonstration before the Board of Magical Comestibles. The volunteer that would be observed under the influence of their elixir was a man that Harry had never met from a different department. He sat rigid in a wooden chair they had supplied him, under a bright lamp that hung from the ceiling. Harry thought it all very like muggle television.

"Open your eyes," the man conducting the demonstration commanded.

The volunteer obeyed, struggling in his trance-like state. His eyes were glassy and vacant as they were supposed to be, and he didn't flinch when the conductor snapped his fingers in front of his face. He brought a lit wand to each eye, checking his pupils.

"Subject pacified. Test commencing."

The curtains were drawn, and Harry and Hermione were led out of the side room, as was standard during an observation. The belief was that if the original researchers _were _in the room during one, they might somehow alter the results to their benefit.

"Should we get something to eat while we wait?" Harry asked. "We've got about an hour and a half until they'll be finished and want our report."

"Sure," Hermione nodded, "Just let me get my jacket."

It was a particularly cold day, and Harry offered his arm as they stepped out of the Ministry. The roads were loud and busy, and Hermione remained silent as they walked the three blocks to their favorite cafe, _Il Brioche. __Their breaths hung in the air, and she leaned into him, shivering. _

_"__Here." He pulled his arm back and wrapped it around her shoulders instead. She smiled at him, grateful. _

_They came upon the large, glass doors of the restaurant finally, and a blinding light reflected behind them. _

"Did you see that? That flash from across the street?" Hermione whipped around, startling Harry who had been scanning their path for patches of ice.

"Huh?" Harry followed her gaze to the opposite sidewalk, seeing nothing unusual. An elderly man sat at the bus station, warming his hands on a cup of coffee. A group of businessmen came out of the nearby courthouse, laughing amongst themselves, briefcases in their hands. A petite woman in clunky snow boots strode past with a german shepard on a leash. "What are you talking about?"

"It..." she turned around, looking at the door and then back across the street. "It was a reflection I guess?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know, it just looked like a flash of some sort."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, I didn't notice anything," he shrugged. "Lets go in."

…...

Ron put his large, booted foot against the wooden bleachers to untie his laces. There were only four more practices until the Cannon's first game of the season, and the excitement shared by the entire team was tangible. Today he had blocked so many quaffles that his teammates took a time out to give him a round of applause, and he felt finally certain that he had made the right choice for himself in leaving the Ministry. Yes, he missed being with his two best friends everyday, but he knew without doubt that on the field was where he belonged.

A series of muffled giggling from across the bleachers caught his attention, and he looked up to see several of the girls on the team immersed in some gossip or other. The two taller girls were blonde and he thought their names might have been Mallory and Trisha, but he couldn't quite remember. The petite little brunette girl he knew was Natalia, but that was only because she had a locker right next to his. Their rapid whispering floated over to him, and he strained to make out the words.

"_...taken?... muggle girl... no of course not... yes for a while now... please, as if I care..."_

He turned back to his laces, trying not to blush when they realized he was watching them. He could feel their critical stares on him, and he flexed his arms discreetly as he finished with his boots. They strode past him toward the locker rooms and he jumped when he felt a hand on his butt.

"Nice work out there, Ron."

The girl he thought was called Trisha turned and threw him a wink over her shoulder, fluttering her pencil straight, waist length hair as she did so. Ron knew his face must have been flaming, and they laughed again when he said nothing in return.

…...

As soon as Harry and Hermione returned to the Ministry, Mr. Ward, one of their overheads flagged them down.

"You two, we're ready for your report. Would you like to present it now or do you need more time?"

"No, now is just fine," they said in unison.

They followed Mr. Ward into the conference room where a group of board members sat around a large, oval shaped table. They peered at them behind their glasses, politely awaiting the presentation.

Harry slid into one of the free seats, and Hermione pulled out a stack of note cards from her bag.

"So the purpose of our evaluation today is just to confirm... one," the eldest board member ticked off the numbers with his finger, "what is the purpose of this elixir... what it does and what modifications have been made to its original composition; two, its necessity in the Ministry, and finally, is it safe?"

Hermione cleared her throat, giving half her stack of cards to Harry.

"Well, as you know we have taken a traditional draught of veritaserum and altered it, with the intent of improving and expanding its usage. The original elixir is mostly used in formal and straightforward interrogations, but we wanted to create something that could be used under the radar. Um..." she flipped a card over, "as you all remember, during the early days of Voldemort's climb to power, people were very frequently put to death when they would come forward with information for the Ministry concerning his party. In other cases in which the Ministry would use force to extract information from these witnesses, they would also be put to death, whether they had any choice in the said extraction or not. When the opposing side is also using veritaserum, it makes it impossible to keep information confidential, and to keep witnesses safe. What we've done is transform the effects of this elixir into more of a hypnotic slumber."

"So how does that work?"

Hermione sat down, giving Harry the go ahead to present the next part.

"Unlike the original elixir," he said, standing up, "the recipient doesn't just... spill anything that is asked of them, fully awake and aware of what they are saying. With our elixir, they will still be unable to lie, but they will be put into a trance like state upon ingesting it. This trance can last anywhere from 20 minutes to several hours, during which they will have no knowledge of what is being asked of them, nor what they are answering. They are essentially, asleep. Their mobility during this time is reduced, but not entirely, and when they regain consciousness they will have no recollection of anything prior to being sedated. This is helpful in the fact that if the witness is later questioned by another party with veritaserum, they can truthfully answer that they were never interrogated because they simply wont remember it."

"And do you think this is a safe formula to be ingested into the human body?"

"Absolutely. The components themselves were relatively easy to combine. It consists of traditional veritaserum, a sleeping draught, and essence of obliviation. There are traces of paralytic but again, we wanted the witness to remain at least slightly mobile."

Hermione might have scoffed at _easy to combine. _"The incubation stage is somewhat acidic, more so at first and eventually becomes completely mild when it reaches completion."

The board murmured amongst themselves a moment before standing to dismiss them. The elderly member took Hermione's hand, and then Harry's.

"Ms. Granger. Mr. Potter. We appreciate your presentation very much. We will deliberate amongst ourselves and inform you of our decision to pass or not pass your elixir as soon as we are able."

"Thank you, Sirs," they both replied, relieved to be done.

Mr. Ward led them back out into the hall, and gave them a smile of approval.

"Now I realize I can't speak for the board but I think you both have nothing to worry about."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you, and let us hope so."

"Well I'm actually fairly confident it will pass. Speaking of, I was wondering if I could persuade you two to take on a new assignment."

"So soon after finishing this one?" Harry asked, astounded. "It still has to actually pass."

"Well that's the thing. This task would more than likely require use of your elixir... I know I'm rushing this but its very important. I only just received an owl this morning, but..." his face was suddenly grave, "apparently there's been a homicide in Hogsmeade."

Hermione gasped, putting a hand over her open mouth.

"Now I know what you're thinking," Mr. Ward continued, "this hardly compares to when Death Eaters were roaming the streets only several years ago, but at the same time we haven't seen anything like this since then."

"Is it anyone we know?" Harry could feel Hermione go stiff next to him and he grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

"I don't think so. Sources lead me to believe the victim may have been a muggle. I honestly don't think whoever killed them used magic at all. I'm really not sure why, but it all looks very..."

"Encrypted," Hermione finished, white as a sheet.

"Yes, Ms. Granger. I'd feel a lot safer if I had aurors experienced with the muggle world working on this."


End file.
